


They Might Be Nightmare Fuel

by Theslimiestcola



Category: They Might Be Giants
Genre: Nightmares, Puppets, things coming to life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2019-09-20 22:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theslimiestcola/pseuds/Theslimiestcola
Summary: They might be giants but weird and spooky things happen





	1. Those damn puppets

   He could hear its needle-like claws digging into the floor boards as it dragged itself down the hallway towards his room. The sound soon stopped and now he could physically see this thing as usual, it stops and stares at him from the floor as soon as it gets to his room. He can't do anything else but stare back at it, as it begins to pull itself up off the floor, stretching out its accordion spine, making it seem taller and more terrifying. The spine sounded broken and horribly out of tune. It then lunged itself towards him, pinning him down on his bed, its claws slightly digging into his wrists. It gives him that same damn toothy smile. Blood began leaking from its mouth, dripping on to his face. It had the _exact_ same appearance as John Linnell, the only difference was its puppet-like appearance.

_Please, no._

   The puppet cocks his head, still smiling. He began to slowly sing that damn song again.  
**"Now it's time to go..."**  
_Please wake up._  
**"here we go..."**  
_Please._  
**"What if I don't want to go...?"**  
_Please, I'm begging you. Wake up._  
**"But you do..."**  
_WAKE UP._  
**"maybe... SO!"**

   The puppet raised it's claw high above its head before violently digging it deep into his stomach, laughing. Marty jolted awake, breathing heavily, quickly flipped on the light and lifted up his shirt to make sure he wasn't bleeding. No blood, no puppet. He sighed in relief, pulling his shirt back down over his stomach and tried settling down, hoping his heart would stop pounding in his chest. He took a few deep breaths, wiped his sweat-covered face and stood up, stumbling his way toward the bathroom. He turned the light on and looked at himself in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes had worsened. How long has it been since he's gotten a decent amount of sleep? 4, maybe 5 days? He can't remember. How the guys hadn't notice how tired and exhausted he's been lately was beyond him. It angered him a bit just thinking about it. Marty looked at the clock, it was only 3 in the morning. He's been having the same nightmare over and over and over again. That damn puppet. That damn smile.

 

   After splashing his face with cold water for the second time tonight, he left his bedroom to make sure the box wasn't open, and that those damn puppets were still locked up tight. Marty quietly walked downstairs toward the laboratory and stopped as soon as he saw the closet where the puppets were in. Flans was just around the corner, quietly swearing to himself in frustration. He didn't want Flans to know he was down here. Slowly, he opened up the closet and to his relief, the box remained unopened, untouched. All he wanted to do was throw that box in a fire and let those damn things burn. But the Johns wouldn't be very happy with him if he did. Marty closed the closet, locking it up tight. There's no way those things can get out even if they tried. Marty turned around, quietly making his way back upstairs. His brain was shouting at him to get some rest. He was so exhausted. But the constant nightmares and paranoia said otherwise. He walked to the kitchen to see if he could make himself something that would hopefully keep him awake. There wasn't much for him to work with. He doesn't drink coffee. Marty hates the taste of it. Taking in huge amounts of sugar is just gonna make him sick. He was tired of running lap after lap around the neighborhood and drinking protein shakes all day to keep himself awake. He went over to the fridge and looked inside, and the first thing he looked at was the left over alcohol that Dan had purchased the night before. He didn't care anymore, he was so desperate to finally get some rest that he might as well drink himself to sleep. Marty quickly grabbed a couple bottles, not even caring if Dan would be bothered by this. Before Marty could get back to his room without anymore seeing him, he heard the sound of an opening door coming from behind him, which made him almost jump out of his skin. Marty turned to see John Linnell standing behind him.

   "Uh, you alright, Marty?" Linnell asked, "You seem really... jumpy... and... tired... When's the last time you slept?"

   Marty's eye twitched. John furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at all the drinks Marty was lugging to his room. "Hey, what's with all the-"

   Marty started quivering in fear and started backing up slowly. His nightmare started popping up in his head again. He could hear that damn accordion playing loudly in his ears. The smile. The singing. But... it was just a dream. John would never try to hurt him. Would he? That... _thing_ wasn't John, though. It sounded like John. It looked like John. But... it was... just that puppet of John. Marty shook his head.  
   "I-I gotta go," Marty turned around and walked into his room, closing the door rather loudly behind him.

   Right as Marty closed the door, tears immediately filled his eyes. He placed all but one bottle on the tv stand and began to open it. Marty struggled to open the bottle but eventually got it open, bringing it to his lips and chugged it down as if he hadn't had anything to drink in days. The bottle was soon empty, dropping it on the floor and began opening the next. Then the third, and the forth. He already felt like he was going to vomit. His head was spinning and his vision was getting more and more blurry by the minute. But that didn't stop him. He needs to get some rest. Marty swallowed sharply and coughed a few times before continuing. He stumbled back, tears rolling down his face. Finally it felt like the alcohol in his system was taking affect after having about 5, almost 6 drinks. Eventually, he ended up passed out on his bed, letting sleep take over his body. He could finally get some rest.

\---

 

    Flans yawned and rubbed his face in frustration. This is the 5th time this week that the thinking machine has been acting strange. He considered on just throwing the damn thing out, but how creepy it's been acting stops him from actually doing it. It wouldn't surprise him if this thing eventually got up and started walking on its own. It's been doing insanely bizarre things, like trying to communicate with him by sending weird unreadable messages. When it first happened, he assumed it was broken, but the more he tried to fix it, the smarter it got. A message box opened in the middle of the screen. Words began to appear in the box, but as always, he couldn't read them. The screen was too distorted to make out any words. John brought his fingers to the keys and started typing.

_> I can't understand you_

   The thinking machine paused. The words disappeared, making room for more words to appear in the box, this time he was able to make out only 2 words.  
    _Destroy, something something something, They._

   Everything else was illegible. Before John could type again, the screen went black with a small blue hourglass in the middle of the screen. A few sparks flew from the back of the screen and soon the screen lit up again, followed by another message box. John started typing again.

_> What's wrong with you  
>Why are you acting so weird_

   The screen went black and the machine froze, making strange sounds in the process. John hit the screen out of frustration. But something was off. His hand felt wet after hitting the screen. He brought his hand to face and looked at it. Sure enough, it was covered in what looked like... glue, maybe? He wiped his hand on his pants and looked back up at the screen, which turned itself off. John sighed, deciding he should just go to bed already. But before he stood up, the screen turned back on and another message box popped up. Flans rolled his eyes.  
   "You actually gonna give me something to work with this time?"

 

**_< >: Yes_ **

  
   The machine responded in the message box. Flans was impressed that he could actually make out words now. Then it hit him straight in the face. He didn't type that. He _said_ that.

   "Y-you can hear me?" Flans asked.

   More words appeared.  
**_< >: Unlock The Closet._**

   Flans furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

   Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe it didn't actually hear him. But why does it want him to unlock the closet? He started typing again.

_> Why?_

 

   He waited for a response but never came. John stood up from the chair and walked around to corner to see if the closet was actually locked. It was.  
   "How did you-" John took a few steps back to look at the thinking machine, and to his horror, the thinking machine was looking back at him. He jumped.  
   "What... the hell?"

   More messages were popping up on the screen. He didn't dare read them. Flans marched back over to the thinking machine and held down the button to turn it off. He's had enough of this nonsense. It started making that annoying sound again, refusing to be shut off.  
   "Alright, fine!" He yelled, letting go of the button.

   Flans walked back over to the closet and unlocked it. The screen then shut off and Flans sighed, running his hand through his hair. He heard someone walking down the stairs.

   "Hey, Flans, I think there's something wrong with-... whoa..." Linnell was looking over Flans' shoulder.

   "Don't ask." Flans Replied. "So... what's wrong?"

   Linnell lifted his hand and pointed at the thinking machine. "No, John, look."

   Flans turned his head and looked at the thinking machine, which again, was looking at them. Flans opened the closet door, proving it was unlocked. The machine turned, facing forward and then turned off by itself. John looked back at Linnell, who had a concerned look on his face.  
   "Flans, what the hell is going on?" Linnell asked.

   "I'm too tired to explain anything right now, John," Flans replied, "I really need some-"

   Purple-ish blue goo began oozing from the screen of the thinking machine. Flansburgh stumbled back over to it in a panic, cupping his hands to catch it from dripping and possibly damaging the machine. "Dammit, I knew this thing was busted!"  
   The ooze stuck to his hands like superglue. It started to spread up toward his hands and forearms, but it never dripped on the table. He then felt the skin on his arms being tugged on. It started hurting. He tried to pull away but the more he did, the more it hurt. The ooze began slowly pulling him towards the screen. He turned to look at Linnell, who was watching in horror.

   "Don't just stand there," Flans cried, "help me!"

   Linnell ran over and grabbed John's arms and tried to pull them apart but he wasn't strong enough. The goo then started spreading over Linnell's arms, too.  
   "WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!" Flans shouted.

   Their arms were halfway through the screen. Despite how painful it was to pull away, it's all they could do to try to get away. Linnell started slipping, and the ooze yanked him forward, pulling his head through the screen. Linnell started shouting and thrashing, trying to pull himself out, but he didn't have the strength nor the pain tolerance to do so. Flans watched as it dragged Linnell's entire body through the screen. He started screaming as he surely thought John was a goner.  
   "DAN, DANNY, MARTY! ANYONE! HEL-"

   The machine then dragged Flans into the screen. He fell on his face, causing his glasses to crack.

   "Where are we?!" Linnell asked, shivering.

   Flans lifted himself off the ground. "I... I think we're inside of the thinking machine..."

   They looked around. It was as if they were in outer space. Flans looked out of the screen and watched 2 wires pull loose from the thinking machine and stretched over to the closet, wrapped themselves around the box, pulling it off the shelf and causing the puppets to fall on to the floor.  
   "John, Look!"

  
   Each of the wires jabbed themselves into each of the puppets of the Johns.

   "Uh... what's it doing?" Linnell asked.

   All of the sudden an intense, sharp pain shot through their bodies. They fell to the ground, groaning and screaming. The machine began to shoot sparks as it started zapping the puppets to life, injecting them with enough of the Johns' DNA to allow them to come to life. The puppets began to grow human-like features; eyes, fingers, legs. The puppets opened their eyes and sat up, soon looking at the screen of the thinking machine. The Johns were still recovering from the pain. Puppet Linnell dragged himself across the floor, and used a chair to help pull itself up off the floor. He steadied himself on the desk, and grabbed a sticky note as well as a marker. He sloppily wrote a message on the sticky note. Meanwhile, puppet Flans looked at the other puppets; the avatars. He picked one of them up and looked at it before ripping its head off. The other just got pulled apart completely. He threw them on the ground, and stomped on them while Linnell stuck the note in their puppet box.

 

The note read:  
    **Ready or not, here we come!**


	2. Strange behavior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dans notice that the others are acting weird.. But why?

Danny rolled out of bed, remembering he had the _weirdest_ dream . He could've sworn he  _actually_   heard yelling and screaming. But it was  probably  all just a dream, right? Danny threw on a shirt, left his room and walked down the hall and into the kitchen, expecting a fresh pot of coffee with breakfast, but was only met with an empty kitchen. No breakfast, no coffee, and no sign of the Johns.  _Weird,_ he thought. They're usually the first ones in here at this time. Danny decided  _he's_   in charge of breakfast. Only for today. He was definitely in the mood for some pancakes. Grilled cheese sounded good, too. As well as coffee, of course. Can't forget the coffee. And a smoothie for Marty. He got out everything he needed and started getting to work. Not long after Danny started making breakfast, Dan walked in.

"Hey, where are the early birds?" Dan asked. Danny shrugged. "Still asleep, probably."

Danny looked down the hall and noticed Flansburgh's door was wide open. He didn't remember it being open when he walked past it just a few minutes ago. He looked back down and flipped the pancakes. "Hey, go tell everyone breakfast is almost ready." Dan nodded, placing his cup of coffee down and wondered off.

"Hey, Danny!" Danny nearly dropped the plate of food on the floor. He looked back and saw Flansburgh standing right behind him. "God, John, don't scare me like that while I'm-..." Danny paused, "wait, John...where did you even come from...?"

John didn't respond. He shuffled over to the table and sat down with a big smile on his face. How long had he been standing there? It couldn't have been too long since Dan would've noticed him. Whatever. Soon breakfast was ready and Danny set out all the plates on the table. Dan walked back into the kitchen with a worried look on his face. "Hey, uh, something's up with Marty..."

Danny put his fork down and stood up. "Is he okay?" Dan shook his head. "He doesn’t look too good..."

Danny looked at Flans, who was still sitting there smiling, and hadn't even laid a finger on his food, not even the coffee. "Uh, John, aren't you hungry? Don't you want your coffee?" Danny asked. Flans looked at him, then looked at the plate of food. "Oh, yes, of course. I am  starving, " he replied, "I just can't decide what to eat first." Flans continued to sit there and stare off into nothing. The Dan's both looked at each other. They'll deal with him later.

Right as they left the kitchen, Linnell stepped right in front of them with an unnerving smile on his face. "Hey, guys, where you going?"

Linnell’s enthusiasm threw them off. "Uh, we were just gonna-" John immediately interrupted. "Ha, that's great, just don't break anything, ok?"

"O-ok? We weren't-" John walked off, leaving the Dans both confused as they then continued walking down the hall. "Danny, why are they acting so weird? Why are they smiling like that?" Dan whispered. Danny looked over his shoulder at the Johns, who were looking back at them, watching their every move. "I... have no idea...."

They walked back down the hall and into Marty's room. Danny accidentally kicked an empty bottle across the room, causing it to roll under his bed. Dan furrowed his eyebrows, picking up one of the bottles up off the floor and looked at it. "Hey, wait, this is my beer..."

They heard a quiet groan coming from Marty as he slowly started to wake up. His eyes opened and he slowly rolled over on his side and dragged himself out of bed, plummeting to the floor with a loud thud. "Uh. You alright, man?" Dan asked. Marty replied with a groan. He slowly lifted himself up off the floor and sat down on his bed. He could hardly keep his eyes open. "Looks like someone's a little hung over today." Dan said, patting Marty's head.

Marty stood up and shoved himself past them, quickly stumbling his way toward the bathroom, dropped to his knees and threw up. Dan backed up slowly. "I'll uh... go grab him something to munch on. Stay here." Marty soon flushed the toilet and laid down on the floor, resting his head on his arm. Danny kneeled down beside him. "Feel better?" Marty shook his head and covered his face with his hands. He felt like an idiot. But he felt...  somewhat well rested, despite the pounding headache and an upset stomach. It's been so long since he's had this much to drink.

"So... what happened to you last night?" Danny asked. "You look awful." Marty looked at Danny and sighed. "I... don't really wanna talk about it..."

Danny sat down on the floor. "You sure you don't want to talk?" Marty closed his eyes and nodded. That haunting image won't leave his mind. It's all he can think about. He considered not even joining everyone for breakfast. John is the last person he wants to see right now. Dan entered the room and placed a glass of water and a plate of toast next to Marty. "Here, man, this'll make you feel better."

Marty sat up and nibbled on the toast. "Marty, I know you don't want to talk about it, but-" Marty interrupted. "I just.... can you guys just leave? I wanna be alone."

The Dans looked at each other. Danny lifted himself up off the floor and walked out and Dan soon followed. Marty started tearing up as he sat on the floor, looking at the shower curtain. He wiped his eyes and stood up, soon being struck by a  very full bladder. He did his business and then stood in front of the sink. Marty looked at himself in the mirror as the cold water was splashing on to his hands. Danny was right. He  did look terrible. He looked like a zombie. Marty soon dried his hands and made his way over to his bed to sit down. There was a bottle of aspirin on his nightstand. Marty grabbed the bottle and opened it, shaking out 2 pills and popped them in his mouth, taking a long sip of water. He laid down on his back and looked up at the ceiling. The image of Linnell hanging over him popped into his head and he immediately sat up. He sighed.

"Can't even lay down in peace."

 

\---

 

Dan and Danny sat at the table, eating breakfast. The Johns disappeared without laying a finger on their food. "What's up with everyone? They too good for us now?" Dan asked. Danny looked at the empty seats in front of him and scoffed. "Not even a thank you. They just left their food here. Could've said something if they didn't want it."

Dan patted him on the back. "Hey, don't sweat it. Either way, I'll take it if they don't."

"Dan, it's not like them to  not have their coffee. It's like... their life source."

"True," Dan replied, "but what if they already  had coffee? Like... left over coffee or something."

"Are you kidding? You and I both know they only drink fresh coffee," Danny rested his head in his hand and took a sip from his coffee before continuing, "and besides, neither of them complained that  I took the good coffee cup."

Dan glanced at the cup Danny was using. "Yeah, that's super weird... Those two fight for that cup every morning."

"I guess I could just save all this stuff for later. Or if... you want it."

Dan leaned back in his seat and shook his head. "Ah, I shouldn't. Just throw it in the fridge. They'll probably eat it later."

Both of the Dans sat up and began cleaning off the table. As Danny was washing up, he looked down the hallway. He noticed that the lights were flickering. "I guess Flans hasn't fixed the thinking machine yet. The lights are still flickering." Danny said.

"Maybe that's where they are. They could just be busy trying to fix it."

Danny shook his head. "It can't be  that important. Can it?"

Dan shrugged. Neither of them really knew anything about the thinking machine in the first place. The only one who really knew anything about it was Flans. Danny considered walking down to the lab to see if that's where they were. He waltzed out of the kitchen and headed his way downstairs. As soon as he reached the bottom, he felt someone grab his shoulder, making him jump. "Where are you going, Danny?" He heard Flansburgh ask from behind him. Danny turned his head to look at Flans. For whatever reason he couldn't respond. There was something about Flansburgh that just didn't feel right. Flans cocked his head and smiled. He turned themselves around and headed back upstairs, still grasping Danny's shoulder. Once they reached the top step, Flans pulled Danny in front of him and gave him a slight shove.

"Please don't bother me while I'm down here.  Very busy!" Flans said before walking back downstairs.

Where did he even come from? That's the second time he has popped out of nowhere. Danny looked over at Dan, who looked just as confused as he did. "Something's not right, man," Danny said, quietly, "are they mad at us or something?"

Dan shook his head. "They would probably tell us if they were."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been awhile, I know. Figured I’d just post what I had so far since I just kind of abandoned this story for such a long time..

**Author's Note:**

> I got kind of lazy at the end. Also I couldn't come up with anything for the summary and tags, please ignore them. Also also, this story will get brutal as it goes on, so please keep that in mind. Other band members will come to in to play later on in the story!


End file.
